Having Existed for You
by Tw1st
Summary: Several years after James Kirk's death, Spock is given the chance to relive the past from Kirk's point of view. Spock/Kirk Slash
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

It had been many years since Spock had set foot upon Earth's surface.

As he walked across the grass of the Starfleet Academy grounds the Federation Ambassador blinked up towards the single sun that orbited high above the planet, inwardly regretting the decision he had made to stay away for so long. Earth had always been a pleasure for him to visit, being as half of his culture originated from it and the mere simplicity of its atmosphere made any creature of any race feel both welcome and at ease. The longer he basked in the warmth and sweet smell of this particularly pleasant summer's day, the more tragic it weighed in upon him that he had decided to stay away. Though, it really hadn't been _his_ decision…

Young, unfamiliar faces moved past Spock in crowds as he went, very determined to arrive on-time to his meeting. He caught himself expecting to see old friends jogging by or old teachers roaming about from building to building – but, of course, most of those faces were either deceased or far too old to be caught on the Starfleet Academy ground anymore. The half-Vulcan felt rather out-of-place, shuffling through the 20-something's and their busy minds.

Though his exterior did not yet show it, his soul felt very old.

So many trek's throughout the galaxy, so many planets, so many adventures – the half-Vulcan's belt of experience was plastered with almost seventy years of space travel. And here he was, retired from Starfleet and now serving the Federation, forced to spend a month on Earth so that he could sort out a few Klingon issues that simply could _not_ be handled from space, or any other planet. The details were hush-hush at this point but he was confident that the matter of his desired arrival would be explained momentarily.

As he approached the long pebble stairway that lead into the building where his meeting was set to take place, Spock stopped momentarily and stared up at the glistening tall glass windows. It had been so many years since he had laid eyes on this particular building – and there were so many memories stored away inside of it. It was inside of _this_ building that he had first met James Kirk. It was inside of _this_ building that James Kirk had been promoted to Captain of the USS Enterprise. It was inside of _this_ building that Spock's entire life had been changed, and where the course for many years of adventure had begun.

The past 10 years, however, lacked an important spark of life that would never be reignited for the rest of his existence - a spark of life that, ironically, also began within _this_ building.

Squaring his shoulders, Spock dug down deep within himself and withdrew the strength to trudge up the stairway, keeping his eyes fixed on the door at the top. When the stairs were over with and he had reached the very top, the half-Vulcan reached a placid-skinned hand forward and extended his fingers towards the handle, relieved that he had made it this far.

"Ambassador Spock?" A foreign yet oddly familiar voice called from behind him.

Spock turned, dropping his hand, and glanced over his shoulder, expectant to see another Ambassador or Federation member. What his gaze actually fell upon both startled and left him with room for gaping disbelief.

A woman stood before him with shoulder-length dirty-blonde hair, her complexion golden, her skin perfectly sun-kissed, her eyebrows full and bushy, and her eyes the color of a bright, crystal blue. For a moment Spock's heart stopped.

Fate had a truly cruel way of reminding his human feelings of how drastically broken they were.

"Of course it's you. I'd recognize you anywhere." The woman continued, looking extremely pleased and relieved that she was speaking to him. As if triggered by the confused and slightly horrified look in Spock's speechless face she urgently went on in explanation. "Someone told me that you were coming to Earth. I know you probably don't know who I am – "

"Winona Kirk." Words finally found their way through as Spock stared down in awe at James Kirk's adult daughter, named appropriately after his mother. "Your resemblance to your father is remarkable."

Winona tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled weakly at him, dropping her gaze to the pebbled ground. She clearly had things that she wanted to say but words were failing her the same way that they had momentarily failed Spock. The silence, however, was welcomed – for it gave the half-Vulcan enough time to lasso his unexpected spring of emotions and tether them back to the ground.

"He died when I was 16." She finally said with a shift of her weight from one foot to the other, bringing her blue eyes back up to his dark, deep gaze. Her face, so similar to her father's, twisted into a look of desperation. "I have so many questions I want to ask you."

He had suspected that much. There was no doubt in Spock's mind that Winona knew perfectly well who he was and how close he and her father had been – well, at least to the point of public knowledge. But he couldn't talk to her. He couldn't even look at her without being flooded with emotions both good and bad, and the mere thought of reliving memories of his deceased, beloved Captain seemed as alluring as reliving memories of his deceased mother; emotion-filled and horrible.

"I regret to inform you that it was your father's request that you not know me." He began slowly, tugging at the bottom of his shirt to re-align the material along his shoulders. "You should respect that."

"No – see that's where you're wrong!" Winona said quickly, reaching into the giant bag at her waist and withdrawing a small recording device. "He left me this."

Spock looked down at the device within her hands in silence. He knew what it was; he had seen it a hundred times over. It had belonged to Captain Kirk, a device he had acquired when joining Starfleet. Spock knew that Kirk had used the device for personal use, logging his personal thoughts and experiences. It had never once occurred to the half-Vulcan that the device still existed, let alone that Kirk would leave it to his daughter.

"I've gone through the entire thing." Winona said with a shrug, shoving the device towards Spock and smiling. "I think you should have it."

Spock quirked his eyebrow skyward and bowed his head respectfully forward. "Your father departed with the expectation that you would obtain this. It is not appropriate that I take possession of it."

"It's all about you." The young woman urged, wiggling the device around before Spock and physically suggesting him to take it. "Look – take it and go through it."

Spock narrowed his eyes in consideration; it was beginning to grow extremely difficult to fight the urge of taking it from her offering hand. He wanted to listen to it, to take it into a dark, separate place and hear the voice of his old friend, to _know _Kirk's deepest secrets…

"_Please_." Winona begged.

Taking a step backward, Spock shook his head slowly back and forth. It would be both an invasion of privacy and a lack of respect if he took it. "I apologize. I cannot."

In that moment the fragile device slipped from Winona's hand, plummeting towards the ground. Spock reacted quickly, gasping slightly at her clumsiness, and fell forward onto one knee so that he could snatch the recorder inches above the ground. As he straightened himself, brushing his knee free from filth, he looked up to find Winona back-peddling quickly away from him. All of Spock's frustration melted away at the sight and realization of it all.

She was _just_ like her father. Defiant, hard-headed, sneaky…

And irritatingly charming.

"Next Wednesday I will meet you for lunch – and then you can give it back to me. Or keep it. But please meet me next Wednesday." Winona called from the bottom of the stairway, smiling wide. "I really _have_ to know you, Ambassador."

**Author's Note: **This will be the shortest chapter; the rest will (mostly) be full of flashbacks of Kirk and Spock. At this point I don't have a solid rating, for I'm unsure of where I want to take this story as far as 'sexual situations' are concerned.


	2. Stardate 225872

**Stardate 2258.72**

The recording device sat, untouched, at the end of the kitchen bar in Spock's small living quarters that had been so generously loaned to him by the Federation. He certainly hadn't forgotten about the device, but he kept a wide scope between himself and the recorder as to resist any temptations to listen to it. At this point, the half-Vulcan had completely settled on the decision that it was not his place to hear Captain James Kirk's private log and that it would be both inappropriate and selfish. He had convinced himself that he had happened upon the device by mistake and was now in possession of it merely by the stubborn desire of a misled woman.

Spock seated himself gently in the comfort of the living room couch, glancing about at the arrangements of the room. The walls were painted a soft yellow and adorned with unusual paintings, the furniture was new and untouched, the technology of all needs was up-to-date, the kitchen area was clean and immaculate, and it was overall a pleasant human-friendly environment. This was the least that the Federation could do for him, being as they were forcing the half-Vulcan to stay on Earth for an entire month. The room as a whole was smaller than what he had been accustomed to as of late but it was definitely larger than his room had been on the Enterprise, where he had spent many years living. In fact, given the choice between the two, Spock would have much preferred a living area that felt more Enterprise-like and less homey.

As he sat, quiet and very much alone, he attempted to distract himself by internally going-over the day's meeting. Unfortunately, though he tried to re-cap what the Federation council had spent hours going over, there was only one thing that he could recollect; his encounter that had taken place prior to the meeting. It didn't take long for Spock's disappointing realization to sink in; where he became aware that Winona Kirk had been the _only_ thing that he had been able to focus on during the entire meeting. Well, that and the burning desire to reach into his pocket and hold the recording device within his placid hands…

The half-Vulcan's dark eyes suddenly flicked absentmindedly towards the end of the kitchen bar.

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to resist the urge to stand, walk over to the device, and allow Jim's voice to spill out into the silence of the room. Surely it would be a direct violation of privacy for him to listen to it. Surely there was an unwritten ethical code that restricted others to snoop on private thoughts and recollections of the deceased. Surely there was no way that James Kirk would have ever wanted Spock to hear his most secret thoughts…

As the internal battle mulled around within the confines of his head Spock managed to walk over to the bar, pick up the device, walk back to the couch, sit down, and place the device softly onto the coffee table in front of him. It sat inches away from his knees, silent and yet remarkably loud in the way that it called out to him. His pale hands were now folded gently within his lap, held hostage by his own will, imprisoned by the knowledge that to press the little 'play' button would be barbaric and wrong.

Logic had always trumped desire for Spock. That is – always, _unless_ it involved James Kirk.

And _this_ device belonged to James Kirk.

Spock leaned his back heavily into the couch and sighed, realizing that his internal desires were winning him over.

If he were created with full Vulcan blood flowing through his veins this would have been an easy situation to conclude. If he was a descendant of full Vulcan heritage he wouldn't have stumbled into this situation in the first place. If he were a full Vulcan he wouldn't have fallen in love with a human who was now dead…

But Spock was not full Vulcan and his human longings were grabbing him by the top of his pointed ears, steering him towards his desires.

Leaning forward in one swift motion Spock scooped the recording device into his hands and twisted it around at the tip of his fingers. It was humorous how old and outdated the device was, and the old exterior of it brought a smile to Spock's lips as he pictured Jim's refusal to upgrade into anything more recent. Something about 'corporations' and 'the inability to properly progress technology' which all translated into Jim's lack of desire to figure out how to operate any electronic device that was incapable of firing shots or operating vessels. In other words, he was uninterested in small technology and was far more driven by the interest of discovering new things rather than creating new things.

Spock pressed his lips into a hard line as he watched the recorder twist within his grasp. The itch to press the 'play' button was heightened to a tenfold, begging – desperately pleading - him to give in.

It couldn't hurt to just listen for a second, just to _hear_ Jim's voice for one fleeting moment…

"I _hate_ technology – forget this, I'll just write it down."

Spock jumped slightly at the sound of Kirk's voice, unaware that he had pressed the button that would begin the first saved recording. It was so sudden and so un-characteristic of a typical log that the half-Vulcan had almost dropped the device from shock, expecting to turn around and see Jim standing behind him, ranting.

"If you would just calm down for fifteen seconds – " a second voice rang out from the device. Spock recognized the voice instantly as belonging to Leonard McCoy.

Then Jim began to rant. "No! I've been calm. _Why_ do we still have technology like this around? Aren't we more advanced than… buttons!? I'm sick of buttons! This probably doesn't even - "

"You're recording." McCoy could be heard saying in the background, somewhere beyond Jim's voice.

"-work! I mean look at it… it's just a blank screen, with all of these buttons – "

"You're recording." Again.

"I pushed _this_ button, which _you_ told me to push and – "

"Damnit, man! You're recording!" McCoy suddenly yelled, stopping Jim mid-rant.

There was silence followed by a shuffling sound as if the device was being shifted and examined.

"Ooooooh, I get it." Spock could hear Jim's lips curl up over his teeth into that famous smile of his. "See Bones, you always get _so_ worked up about things."

And it was over.

Spock sat very still, mildly confused, trying to allow the realization of what had just occurred to catch up with him. Why Kirk had kept this particular 20 seconds of recording on the device was beyond Spock's level of understanding. Perhaps Jim had found it amusing, or perhaps he simply hadn't figure out how to delete it. Either way, the feelings the recording had now left behind for Spock were both overpowering and miserable.

He wasn't sure how he had expected to feel. In truth, he had hoped that hearing Jim's voice would have been the kind of thing that Spock could ease himself in and out of. In his mind, over and over again, the half-Vulcan had pictured himself allowing the device to play-through one short sentence – just so that his ears could be caressed by Jim's voice one final time – and then he would turn the device off and never return to it again. But of course, though he was no longer alive, Jim still managed to twist all of Spock's plans.

Spock pressed two fingers against his lips and shut his eyes, attempting to center himself. He hadn't heard Jim's voice in years. The sweet sound of his former Captain's husky words flowing through the tiny speakers of the device had been enough to send Spock over the emotional edge, an edge he had not been nearly prepared to approach. Memories and feelings that had been locked away for years had suddenly all sprung up at once, eager to surface and take over the empty physical shell that was now the half-Vulcan's body.

This had been a mistake.

Spock set the device once again down onto the coffee table and lifted himself from the couch. Squaring his shoulders, he made his way towards a computer at the back of the room and began to pull up the window that would connect him to the management of the building. As his fingers worked at the computer, he internally reassured himself that this was the right thing to do; he would have the device returned to Winona Kirk immediately, sent with both a thank-you and a sincere apology.

He was almost finished with his request when a thought interrupted his process, halting all physical movement so that he was forced to analyze it logically.

What if the roles were reversed?

If the roles were reversed, James Kirk would have taken the device in a heartbeat and already listened to the entire thing. Twice. Jim wouldn't have thought of it as rude, or selfish, or an invasion of privacy. Instead, Jim would have looked at it as an opportunity to relive the adventures that they had shared together and would have welcomed the opportunity to understand what it had been like for Spock. Jim wouldn't have looked at it logically – he never looked at anything logically.

Deep down, Spock knew that Jim would understand if he listened to the recording device. Jim would have _wanted_ him to.

Reluctantly, the half-Vulcan pressed his pale finger against the screen and cancelled the request that he was seconds away from completing. Pushing away from the computer module, his stubborn legs carried him back towards the couch with re-ignited excitement and haste. When he reached the couch he stared down at the device and narrowed his eyes, leaving a gap for something – _anything_ – to stop him from what he was about to do. Shaking his head in disappointment, he slowly allowed himself to sit back down for the final time. He hadn't been this conflicted in a very long time and he began to feel as if this small device had de-railed everything that was sensible about him.

Before logic could attempt to claw its way back into his mind, Spock snatched the recording device back up into his hands and began to play the next recording.

"James Kirk's personal log, stardate twenty-two fifty-eight point seven two …"

* * *

"Mister Sulu," Newly appointed Captain of the Enterprise James Kirk said quickly from the captain's chair of the bridge, "Prepare to engage thrusters."

Sulu, who was seated appropriately before Kirk, nodded and twisted his chair back around towards the ship's controls.

Kirk planted his elbow against the armrest of the captain's chair and pressed his chin into his fist, glancing around the bridge at the many crew members scattered throughout the room actively awaiting his orders. Never in his entire life had he expected to be seated here, the captain of a Starfleet ship, commanding a crew all of his own. He basked in the overpowering feeling of success as he relived the moment Captain Pike had found him bloodied in a bar, challenging him to be greater than his Father, George Kirk. Not only had he saved Earth and destroyed an entire enemy force – which, ironically was the same enemy that had killed his father – but he had also saved Starfleet and the entire Federation as it stood.

Though, Kirk certainly couldn't take _all_ of the credit. Every single crew member that walked aboard this ship had taken part in those victories and was now accountable as a member of the Enterprise. Well, all except one missing link, who left the crew just short of perfect...

The elevator door to Jim's left opened, momentarily interrupting the busy crowd of the Enterprise crew. Every head snapped towards the direction of the door, curiosity followed by shock simultaneously flowing throughout everyone like a contagious disease.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain?"

Kirk certainly would recognize that voice anywhere.

There was silence. Eyes from the crew members flicked between Kirk's yellow and Spock's blue uniforms, anticipating an explosion similar to that of a chemical reaction to take place, waiting for the revival of the rivalry they had witnessed several times before.

Kirk's lips curled up into a smile, his crystal blue eyes uncharacteristically soft and painted with a hint of shock. "Permission granted."

The half-Vulcan flicked his dark eyes to the ground and moved his hands out from behind his back where they had been held, taking several steady steps forward. "As you have yet to select a First Officer, respectfully I would like to submit my candidacy."

As Spock made his way towards the center of the room Kirk placed his hands firmly against the armrests of his chair and pushed himself out of it, never taking his eyes off of Spock as he moved. When they met in the middle, all crew members' eyes locked on the two of them, Spock continued. "Should you desire, I can provide character references."

Kirk stifled a chuckle that began to work its way up his throat, smiling softly.

The older Spock, or the one who was apparently from the future, had told Kirk that he and Spock were friends from where he had come from. In Kirk's mind that had seemed like a far-fetched fantasy – Spock hated him and he, quite frankly, didn't exactly admire the half-Vulcan. Now, however, as Spock stood before him with a request that with hind-sight only seemed appropriate, Kirk couldn't have been more pleased.

"It would be my honor, Commander."

Relief seemed to flit across Spock's stoic features as the words escaped Kirk's lips. The half-Vulcan bowed his head respectfully and then made his way past Kirk towards the back of the room where Uhura looked as ecstatic as a puppy. Uhura and Spock; that was something that would take some getting used to…

Kirk watched him as he went, allowing the sensation of a completely satisfying decision wash over him, and he turned his attention back towards the giant window at the front of the bridge. This was it; the beginning of his new life. He could hardly contain the feelings of excitement, curiosity, and the anticipation of great things that awaited him and the crew.

And now the Enterprise crew was perfect.

**Authors Note:** I am doing the stardate's as they were revised for the 2009 film, so the first four digits correspond to the year, while the remainder are intended to stand for the day of the year.


	3. Stardate 2259102

**Stardate 2259.102**

Most of the recordings on the device were spread out over the course of a years' time traveling on the Enterprise. Some of the entries were humorous and carefree, whereas others were tainted with Jim's stress and inner turmoil of the experiences he would portray into the personal recorder. On occasion Jim would talk about the women he had been with or was currently infatuated with, none of them ever being painted in clear description or, thankfully, going into too much detail. On rare occasions he would express his delights of following in his father's footsteps and making a name of himself. It was on even rarer occasions that he would mention anything about Spock, which was to no immediate surprise as their first year as Captain and First Officer was best described as 'by the book'.

Spock had spent two days listening through the recordings, coming back to his living quarters in the evenings after his meetings and immediately delving into the voice of his previous Captain. The more he listened to the memories the less humanly guilt he felt about it, seeing that there was hardly any harm in hearing 'secrets' that the half-Vulcan already knew of. Spock could pinpoint back to every single day that Jim had recorded, reliving the memory like it had occurred yesterday, patching every detail into his mind. It was almost as if the recording device was his own, being as every situation described was one that he had been inevitably involved in, standing right at Jim's side. In the first year of Jim being the Enterprise Captain and Spock being the First Officer things were as they should have always been; professional. Spock had been listening to the recordings of the first year so intently that he had, on occasion, forgotten what would eventually unfold, just as Jim had been unaware as he made the recordings.

On the third evening of listening, however, Spock's complacent attitude towards the recordings began to shift. It was on this night, as he sat in the same spot on the comfortable couch as he had every night prior, that he listened to Jim's personal take on the day that things began to change. It was the first day that Jim began to realize that he cared for Spock more than just as his First Officer, and more than just in a professional manner.

"James Kirk's personal log, stardate twenty-two fifty-nine point one zero two …"

* * *

Kirk staggered down off of the transporter pad, his right cheek gushing blood down to his jaw line, clenching his teeth as he pulled Spock's limp, frozen body closer to his. The First Officer had his arm loosely looped around the Enterprise Captain's neck, hanging like a rag-doll covered in snow, ice, and blood, barely able to zone in and out of consciousness. It was an awful sight. Though Spock said nothing and made no attempts of showing pain, Kirk knew the half-Vulcan was in agony from the way his dark eyes narrowed into a squint every time he was forced to adjust his weight.

The blue-eyed captain wasn't entirely sure what had happened; one minute he was trekking his way across the frozen surface of Andoria with Spock in silent tow, the next they were being fired upon by a group of angry Andorians. Spock had fallen to his knees so suddenly that Kirk's only sense of conscious immediately sprang into action as he grabbed hold of the half-Vulcan's arm and drug him over the side of a cliff. In hindsight, that may not have been the best plan, though the long tumble down the snowy descend had given them a large enough gap between themselves and the Andorians that Kirk was able to contact Scotty.

"Good God, what happened?" McCoy stammered, rushing into the transporter room and taking Spock from Kirk's frozen grip. The ice that had gathered on both of their clothes and bodies was melting away, leaving the duo soaking and freezing.

Kirk began to stammer through clattering teeth, his crystal-blue eyes never leaving Spock's face as the half-Vulcan was lowered gently into a wheelchair. "He was shot – it was an ambush, it was completely my fault – "

"Yeah, yeah, pity story later," McCoy spoke over the young captain, ushering his medical assistants out of the room with the wheelchair, "I'm taking him to medical; you're needed on the bridge."

Kirk shook his head and blinked a few times, confused as McCoy began to disappear down the hallway with Spock.

"Maybe I should come with?" He called after him, wishing that all of the rushing would stop so that he could gather his thoughts. In that moment, all he wanted was to follow McCoy into the medical bay and make sure that Spock would be alright. Sure, in most cases the half-Vulcan would live through a simple shot to the leg, but Kirk hadn't had enough time to assess any further injuries he had caused from the painful tumble down the side of the snowy mountain. This whole mess was entirely his fault, if he had only heeded Spock's warning…

"Maybe you should – I don't know – Captain the ship?" McCoy barked back over his shoulder in reply.

Kirk cursed beneath his breath in frustration and spun around, rushing down the hallway in the direction of the bridge. He would have all but forgotten the gash on his cheek if it hadn't been for the blood trickling down his jaw and beginning to drip onto the front of his soaked, yellow shirt. Too distracted by his own thoughts to care otherwise, Kirk wiped the back of his sleeve against the side of his face and smeared away the blood before passing through the bridge doors.

When he entered the bridge all eyes from the crew fell upon him as they usually did, awaiting instruction. This was not the first time they had encountered a problem in the form of an attack but it was certainly the first time that Kirk was seemingly so affected by it. As he walked hurriedly across the floor, heading for the front of the large room full of crew members and beeping computer modules, Kirk clenched and released his jaw in irritation. His aim was to instruct the crew to the best of his abilities in his jarred state of mind, then return to the medical bay as quickly as possible.

Scotty was quick at his heels, more than prepared to have a full-blown conversation. "Who attacked you?"

"A group of Andorians." Kirk replied stiffly, stopping at the front of the room beside Sulu and turning to address the sea of faces that clung to his every word. He should have elaborated further on what had happened, but his mind had suddenly shifted elsewhere and all he could see was Spock falling to his knees on the snowy ground and clutching painfully at his thigh…

"Andorians?" Uhura repeated, snapping Kirk back into reality, her voice heavy with confusion. "They are peaceful with the Federation and Star Fleet."

"Well, they peacefully shot Spock." Kirk snapped, watching the attractive Communication Officer's dark brown eyes haze over in disbelief. At one point, less than a year prior to the date, Uhura and Spock had had what Kirk liked to lovingly refer to as a 'fling' – though they had undoubtedly shared something more intimate than he had ever experienced. Either way, their relationship was long over now, and this became even more apparent as she didn't immediately weaken at the knees or allow any type of worry-swept expression take over her narrow face. Internally, for reasons not yet apparent to him, her reaction pleased Kirk to see. He wondered if she would be more concerned for Spock – like he was – if she had seen the blood pouring out of his thigh and had experienced the heart-wrenching spring of fear that had flown through the Enterprise Captain.

"Keptin, I had heard rumors about ze recent outburst of Andorian outcasts who despise ze Federation and zeir home planet's inwolvement." Chekov's accent lured Kirk into a maze of deciphering what had been spoken, and after a few moments of silence the Captain emerged from the other end with understanding and frowned.

"It's not just rumors anymore." Kirk decided firmly, turning his attention to the helmsman. "We need to speak to the planet's leaders."

Sulu's mouth opened briefly and hung with a loss of words before he gathered himself and shook his head in disappointment. "We attempted to hail the Andorian leaders, but we haven't been able to make any kind of contact."

Kirk brushed his tongue over his front row of teeth and turned to stare out through the giant glass window at the front of the bridge, fully aware of how cold he was becoming. The planet of Andoria sat motionless off in the far distance, its blue surface full of frozen promise, giving off the fake impression of peace. If he had the chance to re-do this entire day over again he would have leapt at the opportunity to do so, hopefully being able to avoid all of the damage the second time around. How could he have let that happen to Spock? If he had just listened to the half-Vulcan and avoided the direct route through the open planes none of this would have happened. Kirk narrowed his blue eyes and in doing so moved his injured cheek in a way that caused a sudden, stinging pain to spring upward.

"It's a planet-wide war that we walked right into the middle of." He finally said, turning back to face the silent crew. "We came here as a favor to Pike, not to get involved in a planetary battle. Contact Star Fleet and inform them of what is happening on Andoria, then request orders on whether or not we take action." With that clearly stated the crew immediately sprang into action and turned their attention back onto their jobs.

Satisfied that his mission was completed, Kirk glanced down at his blood-adorned, wet shirt and began to make his way hastily toward the door.

Uhura called after him, half-jogging a few steps towards him. "Where are you going?"

Not missing a beat, the Enterprise Captain turned his head to the side and pointed a long finger towards the gash in his cheek. "To get patched up."

Kirk made his way towards the medical bay as quickly as possible without drawing any immediate attention to himself in hopes to avoid people stopping and asking him if something was wrong. Being the captain of a ship he was always under close observation by the many crew members who respected and worked beneath him, which was sometimes a great feeling and other times a burden. He was hardly allowed any time to himself, alone, and it was rare if an action of his went unnoticed. Thankfully he had maintained the reputation as a 'lover of women' at a very young age, so it was to no immediate shock to anyone when the latest 'lady of the evening' stalked lazily from his bedroom in the mornings – though if he were to ever have an _actual_ relationship with a woman it would no-doubt be the buzz of the Enterprise, which he did not want. Fortunately for Kirk, he had yet to meet a woman that he longed to spend more than an evening or two with. In honesty, he had yet to meet a woman that he would drop anything for, no matter how important. He had yet to meet a woman that distracted his every thought, held his most intimate concerns, made him feel anything other than lust, or drove him wildly mad with love.

Rounding the final corner to the medical bay, Kirk darted his body quickly back behind a wall as he spotted McCoy slowly exiting the bay. That was the last thing he needed; a lecture from Bones. If only Bones understood how difficult it was going to be for the young Captain to focus on anything until he had spoken to and seen Spock.

But of course Bones wouldn't understand it – Kirk didn't even understand it.

When McCoy had safely disappeared from view, Kirk darted back into the hallway and expertly bent in and out of the medical crew on his way towards the bay. Upon his arrival it didn't take long for him to spot Spock, lying on a bed at the back of the room with some kind of giant wrap engulfing his right thigh, luckily removed from his wet, cold clothes. The sight of the half-Vulcan sent a mixture of relief and panic through Kirk's body. _Thank God he's alright – is he pissed?_ Kirk found himself wishing that Spock was an easier target to read; though his ever-stoic expression left little room for an insight into what the half-Vulcan was thinking.

Wetting his lips, glancing momentarily down at the wounded area, Kirk stopped at the foot of Spock's bed and was surprised to see the First Officer's soft expression upon seeing him. "Have they drugged you up?" He asked casually, already well-aware of the response he was about to receive.

"Pharmaceutical remedies are not necessary." Spock said softly, wincing slightly as he adjusted himself on the bed.

"You're in pain." Kirk pointed out, aiming for sympathy. "That's my fault."

Spock raised a narrow, dark eyebrow and folded his hands softly within his lap. The Enterprise Captain gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he stared at Spock's eyebrow – there was _something_ about the way he did that that just…

The silence that ensued was enough to make Kirk squirm, though he resisted. After a few long moments, Spock finally spoke just above a whisper, "Psychologically, you are always inflicting pain upon me."

Kirk stared blankly for a while before slowly allowing a smile to creep up over his pale lips. Well, the Enterprise First Officer certainly wasn't upset. Relaxing his shoulders that he had been unaware of holding so tightly, Kirk exhaled in relief and allowed a short chuckle to tumble past his mouth. "Oh, he has jokes!"

The corner of Spock's lips flicked up into a small smile before dropping down into their famous expressionless nature. "What course of action will be taken now that we are aware of Andoria's dispute?"

"I'd hardly call it a 'dispute'." Kirk shifted his weight from one foot onto the other, finding himself mildly flustered by the nonchalant way Spock referred to his near-death experience as a 'dispute'. "They shot you. They are _way_ past the level of 'dispute'."

"Perhaps." Spock acknowledged, quirking his head slightly to the side and allowing his dark eyes to catch hold of Kirk's bright blue gaze. "And yet you still fail to answer my inquiry."

Kirk ran a hand through his golden hair and pursed his lips. "I had Chekov contact Star Fleet. We are awaiting orders."

"The Enterprise navigator is contacting Star Fleet." Spock re-stated, quirking his eyebrow once again and making Kirk surprisingly uncomfortable by the gesture. He must not have been in as much pain as Kirk had thought, being as he was making jokes one moment and then being irritatingly observant the next. "The Enterprise Captain should be contacting Star Fleet with information this essential."

"Chekov will do fine." Kirk reassured firmly, hooking his finger along the collar of his wet shirt and tugging at the clinging fabric uselessly. "I had to see that you were alright."

"It is mandatory that a Captain assess and instruct all current situations th-"

"_Damnit_, Spock, are you going to _lecture_ me? I'm trying to apologize for your leg!" Kirk snapped, interrupting the half-Vulcan and throwing his hands wildly about him for emphasis. "I know my duties! I have to deal with the important problems concerning the Enterprise and the Federation before any personal problems – _I_ _know_."

Kirk's remarkably unnecessary raise in volume caught the attention of several members of the medical crew, who stopped what they were doing to stare in both curiosity and concern. Dropping his arms, smiling to each individual face that stared, Kirk made his way around the foot of the bed to Spock's left side, pulling a nearby chair forward to sit upon. Spock watched, still and silent, obviously put-out by Kirk's current captaining decision.

Lowering his voice considerably, Kirk leaned forward in his chair so that his face was hovering over Spock's left arm. "Look Spock, I _can't_ think straight until I apologize to you. You were right; we shouldn't have pushed our luck back there. I shouldn't have done what I did."

Spock narrowed his eyes and glanced down at his white hands, contemplating something very deeply. "If … you are concerned that my intentions are to report your misjudgments to Star Fleet, you need not worry."

Kirk slowly shook his head back and forth, amazed that that conclusion for an explanation had occurred in his First Officer's mind. "You have every right to report me. I put you in danger by blatantly ignoring everything that I have been trained to do." Kirk's hand then slipped up and clasped onto Spock's forearm, squeezing softly to draw the half-Vulcan's attention. The First Officer turned his face in response, briefly glancing down at Kirk's hand, then flicking his eyes up to meet his Captain's. "But I know you won't. I came here to check on my _friend_ and to tell him I'm sorry, not to plead with him."

As the word 'friend' fell from his mouth, Kirk could see Spock's expression soften incredibly in what could only be described as disbelief. It was the first time that he had referred to the half-Vulcan as anything other than a First Officer, and it was the first time that Kirk began to believe that he could confide in and trust another man the way he did with Leonard McCoy.

They were once again engulfed in silence, Kirk's hand still remaining softly upon Spock's forearm, basking in the strange comfort that emitted from each other's company.

"Jim! _What are you doing here_?!"

Kirk jumped up from his chair so quickly that it fell backwards with a loud 'CLACK' against the hard, slick floor. Heart racing a thousand miles an hour, the Enterprise Captain twisted his cold body towards the direction of Bones' voice, folding his arms across the yellow fabric at his chest and smiling wide. "Looking for you! I may die." He frowned, gesturing towards the gash on his cheek.

McCoy crossed the floor with remarkable speed eyeing the Captain with growing annoyance. When he had successfully closed the gap between them, McCoy grabbed Kirk aggressively by the jaw and wrenched his face back and forth with little to no mercy as he examined the wound, then grunted, "It's a paper cut. You'll live. Get back to the bridge."

As McCoy released his jaw, Kirk took a wide step backwards and flicked his eyes back and forth from Spock, to McCoy, then back to Spock. "What _is it_ with you two? I'm sorry – _who's_ the Captain here? I can't seem to remember…" He playfully reached a hand up to his ear, as if listening for a reply from a distant voice, then dropped his hand and hooked his thumb into his chest. "Oh! Me!"

And with that, the young Enterprise Captain squared his shoulders back and walked briskly towards the door of the medical bay. Kirk had barely crossed over the threshold into the hallway when he heard McCoy's voice inquiring irritatingly to Spock.

"What are _you_ so amused about?"


End file.
